!"

"Not all in vain," said the lady. "Cheering accounts of the progress
of our missionaries in the Southern portions of this vast continent
reach us from time to time, and the prayers of the Church are
sanctifying the land from the flood of the Mississippi to the forests
of Canada. But tell me now, Sir Christopher, of thine adventures."

The Knight looked significantly at the Indian girl.

"Neebin," said the lady, "take the book and examine it by thyself. Sir
Christopher and I desire to be alone. But beware that thou show it to
no one, for all are not privileged like thee to see its beautiful
pictures."

The child took the missal, but lingered, as if unwilling to depart,
and it was not until after a more decided repetition of the command,
that, with a pout, she left the room.

"Whom of the holy fathers saw you?" inquired Sister Celestina, after
the door was shut.

"Only Father Le Vieux," answered Sir Christopher, "and he charged me
with a commission which I now discharge." So saying, he took from his
bosom the letter which the Jesuit missionary had entrusted him with,
and handed it to the lady.

Sister Celestina took it, and, imprinting a kiss upon the epistle
which had come from the holy father's hand, laid it on the table.

"Let my presence be no restraint," said the Knight. "I have nought to
say, which can be of equal importance with anything that comes from
Father Le Vieux."

"Thanks for your courtesy," said the lady; and, taking up the letter,
she broke the wrapper wherein it was contained, and which was fastened
together by means of some unknown cement or gum, and commenced its
perusal.

Perhaps the Knight had some design in desiring her to open it in his
presence, for, during the whole time while she was engaged in reading,
he watched her countenance, as if he expected to see the contents of
the letter there; and though her training had been as complete as his
own, yet, by reason of her more delicate organization, she was unable
so to conceal her emotion that it should be entirely unobserved. The
faintest possible color suffused her face as she proceeded, and when
she raised her eyes at the conclusion, they had in them a look which,
though it baffled the sagacity of her keen observer, betrayed a
something which he did not like. It was not triumph, nor despondency,
nor joy, nor grief, but, according to the fancy of Sir Christopher, a
strange mingling of them all. The two had been in the habit, on the